Chasing the Orc's Lingering Scent
Silveryia set out once more on her journey to find the orc. This time, she was determined to end him for good and sever the infuriating bond that tied them together. Up until now, he'd been wandering all over the place, forcing her—starting from the south—to constantly chase his tail. But things were different now. He was waiting for her. Even Gojuju, who had a stake in the twisted relationship between her and the orc, had said as much. So Silveryia was convinced: this journey would bring it all to a close.
The rumored location of the orc was the fateful site of their first encounter—a forest a little northeast from the side path through the Black Rock Mountains. Just a few years ago, that place had been known as Blood Peak. Now it served as a relay station connecting the north and south, and the contested side path had become a trade route transporting underground resources mined from the north down south. What had once been a treacherous path barely wide enough for a single cart had been diligently widened over the years, carving away the surrounding cliffs to form something resembling a proper two-lane road.
“…”
Silveryia silently watched the endless procession of carts heading south and the merchants newly venturing north. Did the people passing through this road know about the fierce battles fought over it? Did they know about the grudge between her and the orc that had begun here?
“Hngh…!”
The higher she climbed the path, the more her body began to heat up, making Silveryia tremble.
No… no…
It wasn't because she was thinking of that orc. It was just that humiliating memory lingering in her body from this place. Look—even now, as she passed the cave where he'd supposedly been back then, her body shuddered at his scent, even though he couldn't possibly still be there!
“Haa… haa…”
The merchants stared oddly at her shaking uncontrollably and breathing raggedly, but instead of reining herself in, Silveryia trembled even more. Her womb was quivering. It was a sensation she'd never felt while roaming the north all these years. It was telling her he was nearby.
“Hey, miss knight? You okay over there?”
“Hngh!”
Her strange behavior must have worried him greatly, for one merchant approached and asked. Yet Silveryia eyed him with a gaze tinged with inexplicable unease.
“Hngh♥ D-don't… touch me…”
Reading the feverish heat in her eyes, anyone else might have sneered in contempt, but the merchant merely clicked his tongue sympathetically. He pulled a leather waterskin from the donkey hauling his cart behind him and offered it to her.
“What's this..?”
“Not sure if it'll suit your taste, but it's water infused with herbs.”
Silveryia thanked him with trembling hands, took a sip from the waterskin, and sure enough, the faint herbal aroma soothed her mind.
“Herb water's good for calming the mind when a succubus comes calling.”
“Succubus..?”
What succubus? As Silveryia skeptically took another gulp, the merchant continued.
“I know a guy who was a soldier that fought here.”
“Ah…”
A friend of one of her own soldiers? Silveryia waited for his next words, cheeks puffed like a squirrel stuffing its face with nuts.
“He said weird stuff happened to their unit at night. Like, hearing women's moans. Or seeing a naked woman wandering around.”
“Pffft!!”
Suddenly?! The merchant tsked at Silveryia's fountain show of a spit-take.
“Looks like the succubus really got to you. Be careful—my buddy said he woke up to some woman squatting over his head, dripping what might've been drool or pussy juice or who knows what right onto him. Whoops, sorry for the crude talk.”
“N-no, it's fine.”
Of all people, his friend had been that soldier..? Guilt prickling at her, Silveryia broke out in cold sweat as she handed back the waterskin.
“But she was drop-dead gorgeous, he said. Even that juice or whatever smelled amazing—like something you'd buy as perfume.”
“What?!”
“Huh?”
“N-nothing. Just startled me.”
The idea of someone paying money for her pussy juice—something from her own body being bought and sold—made Silveryia's heat flare up again.
No, stop… I trained for years to avoid this kind of thing!
Hearing her own shameful behavior described by someone else, imagining that time—it made her body react naturally. She'd hypnotized herself night after night to forget her debauchery back then, but one moment undid all that effort. And naturally, her resentment flowed toward the orc, the root of it all.
But it led straight to resentment for the orc. Just hold on a little longer. Deep breath. Another deep breath.
“Anyway, my friend said there's a succubus here that's insanely lewd but gorgeous as hell, so watch out. I didn't believe it at first, but seeing you now… yeah, herb water's a must.”
“Ahaha, ahahaha…”
Hearing praise and shame about herself at once from a stranger made Silveryia feel like her asshole was twitching too. And so, after passing through the mountains via the side path and riding for a few more days,
“This is the place…”
A village appeared alongside the forest. From the village entrance, carts and their draft animals—horses, donkeys, mules—were tethered everywhere, suggesting it was a settlement built for merchants passing through. More like a rest stop than a proper village, really. It had probably started as a small shelter, but with the influx from the north, it had grown into a full village.
First things first: gather intel.
Her body's reactions confirmed the orc was somewhere in this forest. But for certainty, she headed to a nearby tavern. Taverns always overflowed with information. Especially here, swarming with merchants.
Silveryia rented a room at a nearby inn, changed into airy clothes, and made for the tavern. Airy clothes, that was—leather adventurer garb that was standard fare, but by her standards, where plate armor was the norm, it felt plenty light and fluttery. Not slutty enough to look like she was selling herself, but casual enough to pass for a female adventurer! (Her personal opinion, of course.)
“This should do.”
One of the few tricks she'd picked up over years of traveling in search of the orc.
One: Hit the tavern first in any village.
Two: As long as you're a beauty, you can get basic info there. After that, it's up to your skills.
Three: Armor makes your looks irrelevant.
“Ahem, ah↑ ah↓ aaah~”
She should be used to it by now, but using her beauty to lure men for info bruised her pride as a knight. The thought of acting cute for adventurers and merchants already soured her stomach.
“Hoo… hoo…”
Grabbing a random empty bottle from nearby, Silveryia muttered a reminder to herself.
“No booze. Just no booze.”
Still haunted by the memory of blacking out after her mother's wine at home recently, she steeled herself into the role of a tipsy-but-not-too-drunk female adventurer and pushed open the tavern door.
Taverns usually opened at night, but in places like this with heavy merchant traffic, they ran day and night. Monsters used to make night travel impossible, but now most were exterminated, so barring bad luck, nighttime mountain paths were safe. Worried? Hire a mercenary escort! For time-is-money merchants, what could be better? Thus, the tavern thrived 24/7 with slightly buzzed daytime folks and those planning to party hard before hitting the road tomorrow. Merchants, hired mercenary guards, folks from all walks of life gathered.
The upside of such taverns: diverse crowds meant broad intel. The downside? Every type of scum showed up too. Guys hitting on her for her looks was standard; half the time, they'd fight over who “owned” her.
Clang—clang—!
“You bastard! Wanna die?!”
“Fuck you! I'll sew your mouth shut and smoke outta your ass?!”
Like those two. Tavern brawls among themselves were everyday sights nationwide. Fights were best when they were pointless, right? Silveryia sneered at the idiots fencing with bottles and ordered from the bartender.
“…Milk.”
—Puhahaha!
—Can't hold her liquor at that age?
—Sis! Wait, not sis, just some chick! Embarrassing.
They'd been brawling fine among themselves, but why tune in now?! And why's that guy next to her ordering whiskey right away—showing off?!
Amid the mocking laughter, Silveryia's face burned red as she ducked her head. Even the bartender grinned like a kindly grandpa, handing over the milk as if he understood perfectly! Everyone seemed to be staring at her. Fine, I ordered milk—so what! What're you gonna do about it?!
Silveryia squeezed her eyes shut, gulped it down like nothing happened. Amid the chaos, the creamy flavor really was top-notch milk.
“What're you staring at?”
The sight of a stunning beauty chugging white liquid without hesitation, a single drop inevitably trickling from her lips like it was scripted—got them drunk in a different way. Everyone hunched over awkwardly, quietly sipping their drinks.
“?”
It always happened when she drank milk. With the place quiet now, Silveryia sidled up to the bartender for her real purpose.
“Any orcs around here lately?”
Orc? The dead-silent tavern erupted again at the word. Tales of barely surviving orc attacks, escaping orcs, orcs eating people—give drunks a topic and they ran with it. But they converged on one consensus.
—Why?
“May I ask why you're looking for an orc?”
“Don't need to know that. Seen one or not?”
Time for the usual instigator. Silveryia grabbed a bottle casually.
“Why?! Human dick not enough, so off to get orc bred?!”
Clang!
“Can't get enough, no matter how many times.”
Silveryia smirked satisfactorily as the nameless drunk No. 1 crumpled.
“No one claimed to have seen an orc…”
“Man?”
“But someone spotted footprints that might be an orc's.”
“Footprints?”
“Over a foot long—30cm at least—and deeply imprinted, so they figured it was something huge and warned everyone to be careful. Not sure if it's actually an orc, though…”
That was enough. Gojuju's intel placed him here, and locals suspected an orc too.
“Where'd you see them?”